Execute a soft landing: head, heart, home in one place.

A bumpy descent, but attempting a soft landing

I made it. Just a week ago I pulled my car alongside the apartment building that I now call home. I unloaded the last of my items from France. It felt good to know that everything that was important to me had finally arrived. Those 51 years worth of collected things that are tied to memories of pleasure, nostalgia and pain were now safely tucked away inside my fourth-floor apartment in Roma. Did it really happen this way? Was I able to execute a soft landing?

It wasn’t just about the things that I had collected, but also the feelings and desires that I carried with me. When I arrived over three years ago, I didn’t know it would take that much to settle head, heart and home in one place. What I wanted for many months was to have everything aligned in one spot. I needed to know that I had finally settled and lost nothing along the way. Despite a bumpy, albeit exciting descent, I think I was able to execute a soft landing.

During my corporate years I flew in airplanes a lot. The last 10-12 years, I was an airport warrior up and down the coast of California every week. I knew captains and flight attendants by name because we had so much experience in the air together. (Not that kind of experience…I know what you are thinking.)

Flying was always enjoyable until maybe the last 5-6 years of work. After a couple of rough-weather flights, a few landings in monsoonal India and a number of take-offs in California during the Santa Ana winds (the equivalent of the Sirocco winds in Europe), I found myself becoming an anxious flyer.

I see the last three years as a long-descent into where I find myself today. I have silently affirmed those words over and over again in my head. With the realization I had to unwind my life in France, the somewhat tenuous sale of my house there, the uncertainty of where I would live and the fatigue of the hunt for home, I found myself again asking the Universe for another gift. I know the descent has been a bit rough, but please give me a soft landing. Can I arrive back in Italia with all the parts and pieces in the right place?

When the weather was bad or the flight unusually turbulent, I would sit motionless while my insides churned. I would think to myself, “Even if the take-of or descent is bumpy, just let the pilot execute a soft landing. Let all the parts and pieces arrive in the same place, and hopefully, not somewhere in the ocean.”

I didn’t share much with you about the internal struggle I faced the last several months, but now that I seem to be out of the woods, I’ll tell you more.

The same feeling of dread I experienced when flying, manifested itself over the last several months. The type of anxiety that sits deep within you and makes itself quite comfortable in challenging everything you see that is rationale, beautiful and inspiring.

It’s the anxiety that says, “Somebody is going to figure out that you’re an impostor. You don’t really deserve this life. You’re flying on borrowed time and without a plan. You’re really pushing the limits of what’s available to you. You are asking for too much from the universe.”

It manifested itself physically in all sorts of strange ways; skin rashes, insomnia and fear of things that are intangible. I would wake up in the middle of the night thinking the work in front of me was so complex it couldn’t possibly work out the way I planned. I didn’t believe a soft-landing was possible. Something had to give.

I found myself talking with pharmacists, dermatologists, general physicians, colo-rectal specialists, dentists, and a host of other professionals to counter the effects of being physically and mentally disconnected. I had separated from the absolute trust that all things are intended and all things are meant for growth. My ego was feasting on anxiety, and my body was manifesting that in all sorts of ways.

A temporary loss of belief

After looking back on the last six months, I was having a crisis of belief. As much as I could talk about belief in my writing, I couldn’t muster it inside myself. I could speak for days about the benefits of absolute trust in the Great Power, but in reality I was struggling to find it again. It was easy to go through the motions of the process, but faith was lacking daily.

Perhaps I wasn’t letting you in on much of what was happening in my world. It as easier to tell you a a slightly sanitized version, because I was still trying to execute a soft landing and wasn’t sure how it was going to end. Would I end up safely on the runway or in the ocean?

What really saved me from the worst of it was the gift of friends from near and far.

I have two very close friends in Rome, Sara and Fabio. They school me on all things Roman and Italian. They laugh at my colorful Italian language and continue to teach me more. It seems I have a talent to learn the bad words first and then go from there.

I adore them both, and they see me as their quasi “Zio Luke” because they are a bit younger than me. Perhaps I have something to teach them. Their friendship is very important to me and they keep my idle time in Rome filled with great laughs and lots of language practice.

I also received visitors from near and far. They all arrived at the perfect time when I needed to raise my head above the bumpy descent and see the blue skies above.

One of my best friends, whom I have known since I was five years-old, arrived with two of her girlfriends. These strong, beautiful and kind women were a welcome disruption to the wave of anxiety that I was facing.

We traipsed around Roma and Puglia for 10 days. I was able to show them my version of Italia while we laughed, cried, ate and shopped..there was a lot of the latter.

The laughing was the most important part of all. I found myself laughing more than I had laughed in years. It made such a difference and reminded me of the grandness of life, beyond what I was seeing or feeling at the time. Their visit opened me back up to all that was possible, beautiful and special in this place I call home. I was operating with blinders on at the time.

My friend Annabel arrived from France for several days of wonderful dinners, laughs and reconnecting about our lives. We both love Roma, the Italian people, the food, the wine and all the things that you find here.

I also had a boost from from Alessandra and her son Greg from Torino. She was one of my first friends in Torino. We had a wonderful day walking the city and catching up on our lives, while Greg was furiously interviewing for a fantastic university opportunity, which he succeeded in achieving!

What I admire about all of these individuals is their care for me and others, along with their ability to connect and see the adventure of life. They have a willingness to go deep in their relationships and be authentic. Each of them are touchstones along my journey.

These are just a few of the many people that continue to be there for me to execute a soft landing, even when I don’t believe it’s possible.

It’s time to start over..again.

For those of you that read in my recent post about my search for an apartment in Roma, I can tell you, I didn’t pick the one on Via del Corso in the middle of the tourists filled hub. As much as I wanted to catapult myself into the action of the city, I realized that it wasn’t the right place for me to start again.

The tourists are back. It’s a great thing for the businesses that rely on them, but it makes daily living in the center of Roma a challenge. I can’t imagine walking out the front door every day to be greeted by; “Hello, guten tag, bonne journée, 再会, buenos días, God dag, يوم جيد,” and a host of other languages.

Sure, I’m all for the experience of a multi-cultural life, but before a morning cappuccino, I can barely look at myself in the mirror. I’m certainly not excited about the idea of fighting my way through hundreds of happily lost tourists standing between me and the only thing that makes me poop in the morning.

Instead, I am happy that I chose that one that called to me. It’s a two-story renovated apartment in a palazzo that was built in the early 1900s. It sits in a district of Roma known as “Ludovisi.” It’s a few minutes from Villa Borghese and Via Veneto if you are familiar with the area.

There are fewer tourists and more Romans. It’s relatively calm at night, but it’s just a few minutes walk from the action of bars and restaurants. There’s also a well-stocked covered market in Piazza Alessandria that reminds me of the covered markets in Torino.

It feels like a great place to bring the parts of me together again. Here I can live a bit more authentically in the most beautiful city in all the world. I believe it is a great place to execute a soft landing.

A family affair alongside the Aurelian Wall

The man that built the palazzo that I call home, divided up its many apartments to his family many years ago. Of the 20 or so apartments, over half of them were shared with descendants of his family. So most of my neighbors are related.

I’m ever so mindful of my relationships with my neighbors now. Chances are if I piss off one, I piss off many. It’s a bit of an interesting dynamic. In some ways it feels like “Peyton Place” with an Italian flair. I figure it’s best to lead with humility and kindness and always keep my music at a relatively low volume.

Sofia was welcomed into the family of canine inhabitants quite quickly. Everyday when the workday starts, there’s a “festa dei cani” or party of dogs as they make their way out for the morning walk. They greet each other with barks from behind the apartment doors. I think Sofia is enjoying her new found neighbors as much as I am.

While the cousins, brothers, aunts and uncles all call this palazzo home. I have become the “americano al quarto piano.” My neighbors practice English with me while I practice Italian. I’m not sure who speaks better, but we get the point across during our conversations.

The building porter, Marco, greets me every morning with, “Ciao caro, come stai?” It makes me smile every morning and I respond with, “Sto bene. Ho dormito come un bambino, e tu?” I’m well, I slept like a baby and how about you? He is such a gentle person. To show him my gratitude, I promised him chocolate next week. So this weekend I’ll be pulling out Maurine’s brownie recipe. I’m sure he’ll remain forever in my debt after trying just one.

The most important thing is that I have been met with nothing but kindness and hospitality by everyone. They seem to be quite interested in talking with me. Over time I see myself making my way here quite well, even if I will always be the curious American on the fourth floor with the gay-man’s dog. I’m ok with that label.

From my terrace I have a view of the Aurelian Walls that surround all of central Rome. They were constructed by Emperor Aurelian between 270 and 275 AD. They protected the city for hundreds of years from foreign invaders. I can’t help to think they still stand guard over this beautiful city and the people who call it home.

My romantic mind imagines these walls as defenders of my own parts and pieces that matter the most.

The Universe executed a soft-landing even with my doubts

With all of the bouts of anxiety and fear, the Universe kept manifesting everything in front of me. If I was prepared to take a few steps, it would take the rest and I would find myself where I needed to be. It was always magic when I realized everything laid itself out for me. I just needed to stay open and listen for the next indication of where to go.

So now I am ready to live here as a Roman transplant. I have so much I want to do now, volunteer, work on my book, join a gym, improve my Italian, find friends and maybe love. I want to live a normal life for a while with no plans for trips or adventures to distract me from this city. There is so much to discover and do here. I want to give Rome my full attention.

Over the next several months I’ll continue to share with you what I find among the treasures in Roma and Italia. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to resting and rebuilding again. I want to enjoy this soft landing.

Founded by Romulus in 753 BC, yesterday, marked the 2775 birthday of Roma. I think she looks beautiful with all of those years of experience worn into her tapestry. I wish her and her inhabitants a beautiful birthday.

Thank you for following along. I hope that whatever challenges you may face right now, you remain faithful that life will be there to help you execute your own soft landing and that you will find yourself back on solid ground with all parts and pieces intact.